


no

by arlathans



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlathans/pseuds/arlathans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No", she mouths angrily at the letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no

Isabela is sitting on the floor of her cabin, thinking, as someone knocks on the door.

"It's open", she calls, not lifting her gaze before the man coughs.  
"A letter for you, cap'n", he says. She raises her eyebrow. They are docked, yes, but a letter? For her?  
"Give it", she says, and the man tosses the letter into her waiting hands and closes the door, as if he was afraid. Odd, she thinks, she treats her crew well, after all.  
She opens the letter, smoothing it with her thumb. It's from Varric. She frowns, not sure why he would write her.

  
 _Rivaini_ , it says in his familiar handwriting, _you may have heard what happened at Adamant, with the Wardens being bound to demons and all that, and how Hawke was asked to help with that._ She smiles fondly at the mention of Hawke, before she continues reading.

_Thing is, we got trapped in the Fade, and to get out of there... someone had to sacrifice. There were six of us, all willing to do it for the Inquisitor. You know Hawke, Rivaini._

The smile freezes on her lips, her face drops.

_None of us could stop her. The Inquisitor tried, but she wouldn't hear it. Isabela, I'm so sorry. Hawke is dead._

  
She stares at the words, numb, not believing it. Dead. She can't be, she can't be, there's been a mistake, her Hawke, lively, heroic -- of course. Stubborn and heroic. Curse that fool, Isabela thinks as tears roll down her face. Damn you, Hawke, of course you had to be the hero. _No_ , she mouths angrily at the letter. _You cannot be dead, sweet thing - I won't allow it._

She punches the floor, punches it several times, the flow of tears only increasing, and she lets out a ragged groan before leaning back against the edge of the captain's bed, of her bed, the bed she shared with Hawke. Her eyes close, and she falls deep into her memories; Hawke's smile, the way her lips felt, the way her eyes went all soft and loving when the two were lying side by side after making love - and oh, those delicious moans and whimpers she made.

  
She stares at the ceiling, just breathing, thinking, staying like that for a long while, before falling to a restless nightmare where she tries to save Hawke but can't, reaching for her and Hawke reaching back, but in the end she always falls, and she wakes with a start, only to blink and glance around before falling back to the same nightmare over and over again.

 

 

_Oh, and Hawke told me to include this when I wrote to you._

A small piece of parchment, torn hastily, with Hawke's familiar handwriting.

_Bela, I love you. You know me, the Champion of Kirkwall. I never wanted to be that, but Maker knows I've seen enough people sacrifice themselves for me, and I won't have that. No more._   
_Maker watch over you, and all that. I love you. Remember me._

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this?


End file.
